The sun spread its rays over my shoulders
I was working hard to find blood donors
for the seriously ill
My friend didn’t talk to me anymore,
and yet I wanted an urgent “Reconciliation.”
The moments flew as if someone were chasing
the with lumps of fire.
The conversation with my friend had a been on a social topic
It was the call for blood donation for the sick.
Why should others suffer with life hanging by a fragile thread?
Just because the commotion spread like heavy rain,
A bumerag in all sorts of irritable words.
“You found few donors”
“Okay, be happy with yourself, but don’t judge me.
What can I do to force people to donate blood?
Maybe, I wasn’t more convincing.
Where was the compassion lost?
Did someone steal her unseen and take her to other spheres ravaged by indifference?
Ascertainment:”I suffer for my loyal friends but I suffer even more for fellow people in difficulty. Let’s be more reconciliation. let’s give up pride and that’s because they destroy lasting friends, but other innocent people suffer, while you could have saved their lives.
This poem is from a reality.”
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